The Duchess, Isabella
by mplsveela
Summary: Young Isabella gets the marriage shes been preparing for her whole life, but right from the start, things aren't as they seem. Isabella finds herself in an entirely different world than just the elite one she expected as The Duchess of Devonshire. AU
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** The characters used are credited towards Stephenie Meyer, and the concept and plot ideas belong to Amanda Foreman. I do not claim to own either.

**The Duchess**

"How do you plan on making this bet fair?" Jacob Black inquired.

The young and beautiful Isabella Swan smiled back at him, "When is gambling something that is considered fair?"

"True, Isabella, but certainly all you ladies are going to want to place your bet on the same man, will there be a fray over it?"

Isabella looked scoffed at the suggestion, and began un-pinning her hat from her head, "We shall each draw names for the man whom our bets will be placed on," she announced to the other girls in her company.

The other five girls smiled in approval, and the servants began setting up some sort of a course to be raced on. Isabella finished scrawling down the last mans name and placed them all in her hat to be drawn.

She and the other ladies stood so the servants could move their chairs closer to the edge of the canopy, and the men began taking off their jackets, and rolling up their sleeves in preparation.

Isabella approached each woman to draw and name, and each woman announced the name of their champion. Isabella went last and when she pulled the last name out, she smiled to herself.

"You better not let me down Jacob Black, I have high stakes riding on you."

"Then I suggest you double them," he replied, confidently, and seriously.

"Are you ready gentlemen? Twice around the track on my count, Three…Two…One… GO!" She screamed at the drop of her handkerchief. The men immediately sprinted off, and Isabella rejoined the other ladies cheering.

"Come on Mr. Black!"

Inside, the atmosphere is much different than outside at the picnic. The room has a serious air about it; the only prominent noise is the ticking of a clock, and a solicitor scratching down the date, 'The fourteenth of May, 1774…'

The sun is shining through the windows, and voices of the ladies cheering on the race bleed through the windows, making the silence more bearable.

The Duke is standing at the window, hands clasped behind his back, watching Isabella cheer, with interest. Isabella's parents, Lady Swan, and Lord Swan are seated a ways behind the Duke watching him, watch their daughter.

Lady Swan is the first to cautiously speak up, "I trust your grace still finds Isabella an attractive girl?"

The Duke turns, and his looks are breathtaking. He is noticeably older than Isabella, but has retained some of his beauty of his youth. He has strikingly blonde hair that is pulled back into a pony at the nape of his neck, and skin so pale, it almost sparkled.

He looked back to Lady Swan and responded to her question in a questioning tone of his own, "Of course, Lady Swan."

Lady Swan begins pouring tea to drown out the silence, and to distract herself.

"She is well-bred, and devoted to her duties. She can speak French, Italian and Latin of course. And she well trained in horsemanship…" but she was cut off by the Duke's response.

"Of course, I know all this."

Lady Swan continues anyways, "I can't think of any reason that she would not have a singular most promising marriage."

The Duke gives his solicitor a significant look, and the solicitor speaks up for the first time.

"These things are not what concerns the Duke. The most prominent duty His Grace has is to produce an heir. Lady Swan. Of course, when that happens, your daughter will be well rewarded…"

The Duke promptly cut him off, not wanting to get into that, "Thank you."

His Grace continues looking out the window again, not to see Isabella, but out of boredom. He finds this prenuptial business perpetually boring.

Lady Swan continues to engage him in conversation however, "You can rest assure Your Grace, the women in our family have never forfeited on that account."

The solicitor looks to The Duke for his response, but when no response was given, he continued on his own.

"Well with that assurance," he began, and then scribbled down on his parchment without another word.

Then The Duke turned around abruptly, and smiled, and as he did so, everyone in the room visibly shirked back, "So be it then."

Back outside, the men are running the last leg of the race, with Mr. Black in the lead.

Isabella lets out one more exuberant cheer, "Come on Black!"

At the sound of his name, Black puts his head down and accelerates, winning the race. All the men finish exhausted and sweating; some are even doubled over trying to catch their breath.

Meanwhile, Isabella is collecting money from all the other ladies in her company.

"I do apologize ladies, but it appears my horse has won," she says proudly. The other women smile and stay gathered around her.

Black approaches the group, still out of breath but looking very manly and athletic.

Isabella turns to him at his approach, "Well done, Mr. Black"

Black stands closer to Isabella that what is normally expected and the others notice putting a slight edge to the atmosphere.

"And my reward?" he asks very flirtatiously, adding to the tension.

Isabella plays along, and seems to be the only one comfortable with his behavior. "What would you suggest?" she asks, equally suggestive.

The others in their company smile to each other, and Black is just about to respond with a reply when…

"Your mother wishes to see you, Miss Isabella," a servant announces to Isabella. His announcement breaks the spell Mr. Black has over her, and she immediately sets off towards the house with a curtsey to her company. Mr. Black returns with a bow, and watches her ascend towards the house, while putting his jacket back on.

Back inside, Isabella enters the same parlor that prenuptials were taking place moments before, but now all that is left is her mother, Lady Swan.

Isabella begins by apologizing, "I'm sorry Mama, were we making too much noise?"

Lady Swan dismisses the comment with a smile, as if nothing else mattered. "Now, we have much more important things to discuss Isabella."

Isabella takes a step closer to her mother, and her mother is trying to keep herself composed, but her happiness, and excitement is shining through. And in turn Isabella is too, becoming irresistibly happy.

"I have heard a rumor…" Lady Swan begins, but stops to create suspense.

"Yes?" Isabella urges.

"That I will soon be addressing my daughter as Her Grace, Duchess of Devonshire."

Isabella's mouth drops open in an un-lady like way, and sputters before responding, "Truly Mama?"

Her mother responds smugly, "It is."

Isabella remains quiet as she composes herself, The Duke, and she would be a Duchess, she ran this through her head several times before saying it out loud, "The Duke of Devonshire…"

"Ah yes," Lady Swan begins, as she realizes she's missed an important part, "This is where our real discussion begins."

Isabella eyes her mother curiously and joins her on the sofa where her mother is summoning her.

"It is not the current Duke you are to be married to, we have been mislead this whole time."

"I beg your pardon, Mama, I don't understand…"

"The Duke has dined with us twice, not to find a suitable bride for himself, but for his eldest son, his heir."

"Son?"

"Yes, as it turns out, The Duke was married only three short years, before he was widowed, but his bride gave him three children before her untimely death. Now, for whatever reason, he did not disclose, his son is stepping up and taking his place as Duke of Devonshire."

Isabella looks confused, yet intrigued. The excitement of becoming a Duchess as still there, but the new prospect of marrying someone closer to her own age was beginning to sink in. Never, did she think she could have it both ways.

A new feeling set in however, as Isabella rethought the situation. An arranged marriage is what it is, but isn't it still customary to meet with her husband prior to the marriage? Would she be able to meet him before hand? Would he be a Duke by then?

"What is his name?" Isabella asked, instead.

"Edward," her mother replied, and Isabella felt a tingle go through her body at the name.

Her mother rested her hand on Isabella's cheek, "I had hoped not to part with you until 18, but this is a fine match, and it would be selfish of me not to let you go."

"Did Edward not want to meet me?"

"I believe he does Isabella, but I also believe rather, that The Duke has not given him an opportunity. His time and efforts have been spent preparing him for his position as Duke, not as husband. But mind you, he is only 20, this as fine of a match you could ever dream of Isabella."

Isabella closed her eyes and leaned into her mothers touch, "How can His Grace be certain, that his son and I will be such a fine match?"

"Rest assured, Darling, you shall be a fine match, and you shall be Duchess, and produce many heirs."

Later that day, Isabella walked out to her balcony to reflect on her new life that awaits her. The sun was just setting, and the party she had left was still gathered by the canopy. She could not help but notice that Mr. Black was sitting off to one side, starring across the fields. She was sad to leave her friends and her life, but sincerely optimistic about her new life. As far as she was concerned, she was the luckiest girl she knew, and she was determined to have a prosperous marriage to Edward. She went to bed without seeing anyone else that night, and spent the evening dreaming of what her Edward would be like.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** The characters used are credited towards Stephenie Meyer, and the concept and plot ideas belong to Amanda Foreman. I do not claim to own either.

**The Wedding**

"I just feel as though I'm being taken in," Isabella huffed, as a servant tightened her corset.

"No one is trying to take you in my dear, you need to put these speculations behind you now, once and for all," Lady Swan drew out bored.

"Why haven't Edward and I met yet? I was led to believe it was customary to be acquainted even in arranged marriages."

"Of course it is, but as you have been informed, he's being prepared to take over his fathers position as Duke. I believe his Grace is hardly giving Edward a spare moment."

"On that point, I thought Edward was to be Duke before we were married. Of course I don't understand why His Grace is stepping down, he looks perfectly healthy, better in fact. But where does this leave me?"

"In a secure, promising marriage where you will be a Duchess before the year is out," Lady Swan replied sternly to her daughters back.

Isabella nodded, acknowledging the end of the conversation and stepped into the gown her servants held open for her. Her bridal dress was surely a gown to surpass the elegance of any gown of their age. She wore it proudly, and was confident of the impression she would make upon first seeing Edward.

At first glance it appeared that the Duke was resting his hand upon his son's shoulder in prayer. Their heads were bent down slightly and Edward's hands were clasped in front of him.

But as Isabella further ascended the aisle she realized how tight the grip the Duke had on Edward, and that Edward's hands were clasped so tightly he trembled.

Her carefully designed confidence to make a brilliant first impression on her husband diminished momentarily as she let their embrace sink in. It was almost as if the Duke were restraining Edward from something. Fleeing perhaps?

She reached Edward and as she did the Priest stepped forward, and the Duke removed his hand and stepped back, but only slightly.

Isabella looked up to Edward, his eyes remained locked on the Priest before them, but he reached one shaky hand out for hers to begin the ceremony.

She gave a slight jolt upon receiving his cold hard hand. She had been expecting to hold onto the sweaty trembling hand that was so tightly clasped in front of him. The jolt she gave did not go unnoticed by Edward, and he responded by gently and more smoothly she believed him capable of, running his thumb along the back of her hand. The gesture sent shivers up her spine as she had never felt before, and it wasn't in response to the coolness.

Throughout the vows Edward did not look at Isabella, she was surprised he was marrying so blindly, he did not want to know what his bride looked like? She found herself foreshadowing their marriage, and it was a lonely one. One where Edward did not pay any mind to her, even to turn his head.

Finally at the end, when the Priest asked them to turn to each other, Edward let his eyes fall upon his bride. 1,000 different emotions ran through him when he looked into her deep brown confident eyes. The first and foremost in his mind was regret. Why had he put off meeting her, and why didn't he watch her walk to him down the aisle? Had he known that Isabella would hold 1/10 of the beauty she was displaying now, he would have devoted every second to her, and scarcely blinked. How could it be that this stunning creature could belong to him? Had all his sins been forgiven? Or was this his punishment; was she just bait dangling in front of him as a test?

Not even a moment had passed as all of this ran through Edwards mind. He carefully fixed his face into the one of indifference he held before, but apparently he over did it. He watched as his bride shirked away from him, and a crease came between her brows.

Meanwhile Isabella was convinced she saw his face soften, even for a moment, before his face turned into one of rage. She had never been looked at with such a burning passion before. With such malice. She couldn't understand what she could have done to displease him so early one in their meeting. The only conclusion she could draw was that Edward must be sincerely disappointed in his father's choice for a bride.

The ceremony came to a close, and she held her breath as Edward leaned in and laid a soft, chaste kiss onto her cheek. There was no joy between them as they turned to be presented to their small and intimate wedding. She locked eyes with several prominent figures and tried to smile, as they did to her. Their wedding was a well received, and highly anticipated one.

She finally found her mothers eyes, and she saw her mother held tears of joy, she had not noticed the coolness that Edward was already showing to her.

Music began playing, and Isabella once more made a trip through the aisle, but this time with her new husband at her side. She felt confused by her emotions, wasn't her wedding day something she had looked forward to her whole life? She did not let her emotions show through on her face as they made their way out to the street.

She was surprised to see that citizens had gathered and were celebrating in the streets in honor of their union. They cheered, waved, and threw flowers at her feet as she was blindly helped into the carriage. She looked out her window in awe, and waved back to all the smiling faces as the carriage began to take them down the street.

Children ran along the carriage still waving happily at her for as long as they could. When she finally leaned back away from the window, she was shocked to see she was not accompanied by Edward as she assumed, but by the Duke instead.

The Duke was sitting comfortably across from her with the curtains drawn on his side of his carriage. He had a small smile on his lips as he watched her observe the people outside intently.

"You'll get used to it," he said finally, breaking the awkward silence.

"What is it they want?" she replied.

"To see you of course, the new Duchess."

"But I am not a Duchess yet. I beg your pardon your Grace, but why are you here?"

The Duke smiled at his new daughter, and reached out for her hand. She promptly gave it to him, and was just as surprised to find it unnaturally cold as she did when she received Edwards. Her mind ran through the possibility of bad circulation being a family trait.

"My dear Isabella, this is my coach." Was the Dukes simple reply to her question.

Isabella starred at him momentarily and realized she may have worded her question wrong. "But where is Edward?"

The Duke took his eyes away from hers and looked directly out her carriage window and when she followed his eyes, she saw Edward on horseback riding beside them.

"You'll find my son much prefers to ride horse back when traveling."

The coach then approached a large and elaborate set of gates, where more of the general public was waiting to receive them. They beamed at Edward as he reached his hands out to receive a bouquet of wild flowers. Beyond that though, he paid them no attention, much as the Duke did.

"We're here." The Duke said breaking the silence once more.

The carriage turned off of the street and went through the gates being held open for their arrival. Once they passed them, they were promptly shut and locked behind them.

As they were drove around the oversized courtyard, Isabella looked upon her new home; the stark and austere building that was Derbyshire House. A footman promptly opens her door the moment they stopped, and she stepped out to take in the whole picture.

The most prominent sound was flags waving violently in the wind that bore the Duke's crest. Burleigh, the head butler then stepped forward to receive them pulling her back to reality.

"Your Grace," he said to the Duke standing beside her.

As they made their way to the front doors of the house they passed a row of servants waiting to receive them, they all made a bow of their head, and chimed, "Your Grace," as they walked by.

When they reach the entrance of the home she sees that the Duke has already disappeared, but that Edward is now at her elbow.

"This way Isabella," he says in a soft voice.

He gently touches her shoulder, despite the coolness shown he showed her during their wedding and begins to lead her presumably to her quarters.

Upon arriving to them, Edward stepped back as Isabella walked forward into her rooms, observing all the details. A line of maids stood waiting to assist her in removing her wedding gown, and Edward yet remained.

She hesitated, but then realized, he had no reason to leave, and that this was their wedding night. She watched him remove his jacket, and some of his unnecessary clothes, as her maids began removing her excessive amount of jewelry, and unpinning her hair.

Edward leaned against the wall as Isabella's maids removed the first, heavily embellished layer of her gown. They continued on this way, removing layer after layer, cutting, unlacing, and he grew angrier with each lost layer. How much more frail she appeared beneath the disguise of her wedding gown! How could his father believe he was ready, or even capable at this time of even embracing his wife, little lone consummating their marriage? He felt the rage filter onto his face, and he did nothing to correct it as Isabella's eyes fell upon him.

She starred at him, now only in a dressing gown, as he approached her, and hissed to her, "You may sleep here alone tonight," before storming out of the bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** The characters used are credited towards Stephenie Meyer, and the concept and plot ideas belong to Amanda Foreman. I do not claim to own either.

**Reservations**

Isabella sat alone in a huge gilt-edged blue room. She had been trying to focus on the book in her hands, but kept getting distracted by the smallest noise, or lack there of. Out of all the servants that greeted her the day of her arrival she hardly ever sees any of them. It would be nice to have someone to talk to since apparently her husband was not interested. As she went over this, one of the ominous servants opened the door, and she set down her book.

"Lady Spencer, Your Grace," He said, with a nod.

Isabella looked up completely relieved to see her mother standing before her. She crossed the vast space to embrace her as the servant bowed out.

The two women sat together in the room until much later in the day when they had finally taken out a table for cards. They were gambling with money and cards sprawled before them when Isabella decided she would finally breech the subject of her husband.

"Mama, Edward and I," She began, but she fell flush when she tried to say aloud what she wanted.

"Yes," her mother urged laying a card.

"It's just I," she began, and stopped again.

"Isabella. You are a woman now, you need to act like one, and contain your blush. I am in your confident, and whatever needs to be said will remain between us, understand?" Her mother ordered.

"We have not yet consummated our marriage," she whispered, quickly.

* * *

Unknown to the two women was that The Duke, and Edward were in the adjoining room hearing their conversation as though they were seated at the table among them. They too were having a discussion of their own, but wouldn't be heard by anyone in the house unlike the ladies.

"Carlisle, you must know, you must know this is unheard of!" Edward whispered, speedily and quietly.

"Edward, what you do is unheard of overall. We know nothing about your gift and why your young bride is immune to you. What gives you the key to peoples minds to begin with would be a much better question."

Edward had in fact been tailing Isabella since she moved in. Always seating himself in rooms next to the ones she chose, being as close but unseen as possible. He felt greater frustration than ever before. Everything about this woman was tormenting him; her silent mind, her innocent and adorable attempts to lay with him. Even the way she breathed, walked and spoke caused him pain. She was the most delicate creature he had ever seen, he was sure of it. And it was his job to potentially destroy her.

"By the way, when were you planning on consummating your marriage? I'd say poor Isabella is ready for a breakdown."

"I can't do it, I won't."

"You realize an unconsummated marriage can be annulled correct?"

"Exactly."

At this moment Carlisle stood. Edward had rarely seen him angry, especially not directed at him, but in this moment, he felt the need to shrink away from his father. He felt remorse for making him angry in the slightest.

"You will. There is no question of that. When you decide to is up to you. Maybe you should try talking to her, take some of the pressure off. But I have waited for this girl too long, and searched too hard to let you mess this up. You are jeopardizing everything our family has built here."

Edward sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he went over every possible scenario of him and Isabella being together romantically or emotionally forever. He trusted his father found the correct girl, and talking to her sounded like a safe place to start. But first he needed to talk to someone else.

He heard Carlisle's thoughts drift to Esme, and Edward stopped him before he could leave the room.

"Do you think I could have a private word with Esme sometime this evening?"

Carlisle replied in his mind and continued on his way.

* * *

Back in the blue room, Lady Spencer was responding very negatively to Isabella's confession.

"How can that be Isabella?"

"I don't know, I mean I think it would help if he just talked to me. He's never talked to me."

"My child, talking is what you don't need to be doing. What else are you doing to… entice your husband?"

"Mama! I hardly ever see him! I have my maid prepare me every night in preparation… just in case. But he's only came to our chamber twice.

"The last time I blurted out for him to stay with me, but he turned and walked out mumbling about an eternity.

"I thought he was just timid and shy at first, but now it as if he is making a point to avoid me." Isabella huffed out quickly. By the end of her rant her mother looked angry.

"This is very important," she began, "if The Duke gets word of this, he could annul your marriage to Edward, do you understand?" Lady Spencer said sternly. She then laid down her remaining cards, and stood to leave her daughters home and return to her own.

Isabella walked her mother out, and was left feeling lonelier than she had since she moved into this mansion. She looked around herself at the vast and elaborate vestibule. She took her mother's words to heart. The last thing she wanted was to give up her potential title as Duchess. It would ruin her prospects entirely. For once she decided she would take a left, instead of a right at the top of the stairs, and see where she ended up. This was her home, she should know her way around.

With this attitude she took off to the left, and walked with confidence down the hall. Portraits stared her down as she took another right, maybe she would run into Edward and she could "entice" him as her mother said. She tried to play out some scenarios in which she would succeed in doing so, but she just blushed with every attempt.

"If I blush just thinking about it, how will I actually go through with it," she sighed miserably to herself.

"Talking to ourselves are we?" a voice sounded from behind her.

Isabella leapt three feet into the air, with a shriek and clutched her heart at the sound.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you!" She let out breathily.

"Well you're the lady of the house now, no need to apologize to me," the woman replied.

Isabella took in the physicality of the woman before her, and felt meek in comparison. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. She had the most beautiful and shiny golden hair, lush red lips, and a figure to die for. Perhaps she was a mistress of Edwards, is that what the woman had meant about Isabella being the woman of the house _now?_

"I don't believe we've met, Isabella," she said with a curtsey.

"You are well aware we haven't met, no need for false pretenses," the woman replied.

Isabella pursed her lips, she wasn't used to being talked down to or being so blatantly out shined in beauty.

"Can I get your name then?" she asked, tight lipped.

"Rosalie," the woman said smiling and curtseying in a condescending way.

Isabella was about to ask the Rosalie if she lived here when she suddenly took her leave without warning.

Isabella still stood there in shock. Was this the reason her husband never slept with her? How many other beautiful residents were down this wing?

* * *

Rosalie entered the drawing room that held Edward and Esme. She replayed what had just occurred between her and Isabella, knowing Edward would be listening.

She grinned with evil pleasure as she saw his back stiffen, and a growl come through his teeth. SHe continued with satisfaction through the adjoining door without pausing to acknowledge Esme or Edward.

"_And what was that?_" Esme asked Edward, silently.

"Rosalie has finally had her opportunity to put Isabella in her place,

"Discretely of course," he added, when Esme's eyebrows raised and her thoughts imagined the worst.

"OH!" Esme suddenly said, nostrils flarred.

Edward looked up with a slight grin, "You caught that? Makes things more complicated doesn't it? She must be in the hall," he finished glancing back at the door as if he would be able to see through it.

"Does it ever," Esme nodded, in surprise.

_"I agree with Carlisle. Spend time with her; talk to her, gain her trust. Do what ever you can to become immune to her smell. If Alice is right, this woman is your soul mate, so what are you waiting for?"_

"She won't be much a soul mate if she's dead," Edward replied calmly.

_"You won't kill her. Try and be positive for once in this lifetime. You are the strongest among us, even without your special ability."_

"Were you mad? Were you mad when you found out what you had become, what Carlisle had done to you?"

Esme pondered this very quickly, and Edward caught glimpse and flashes of what she felt when Carlisle had impregnated her, and inevitably changed her without her knowing what he was.

For the most part it was exactly what he expected. She was terrified, shocked, depressed, but despite it all she felt overwhelming love. These were emotions he was prepared to deal with… eventually.

_"Go to her Edward, stop letting your reservations hold you back."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** The characters used are credited towards Stephenie Meyer, and the concept and plot ideas belong to Amanda Foreman. I do not claim to own either.

* * *

**Trial Run**

After a month of living in the dark, Isabella decided she must find out what kind of ground she stood on in the house. Especially after her run in with the elusive Rosalie, she had no idea what kind of a role she played in the household, or if she held an ounce of authority. Edward becoming Duke and she consequently becoming Duchess will come to change all of this, but she had no idea when he would gain his title. For now, she was simply the Duke's son's teenage wife, in an unconsummated marriage. The pitiful idea was overwhelming.

Finding Edward to talk to him was a task unto itself. They never seemed to be in the same wing of the house. He didn't eat with her, sleep with her, or see her. Their living arrangement was all together confusing for Isabella.

On one of her strolls around the manor she discovered what was her husband's study. It was a beautiful room, which looked lived in and warm, unlike most rooms she found. With a plan formulating in her head, Isabella decided to call on him at his study, where a rare servant assured her, she could find him.

She arrived at the door to his study, and was surprised to find it open, as though he were expecting her. She let herself in, but paused when she saw him. He was sitting unnaturally still, behind a beautiful mahogany desk, with ornate carvings along the side and down the legs. Although her heals clicked on the hard floor upon her entrance, Edward did not acknowledge her presence. He was reading a book and was in deep concentration, his eyes sweeping uncommonly fast down the pages.

Although she came to him to talk, she felt uneasy about interrupting his concentration, so she took a seat in an armchair to the side. She hoped that by not bothering him, he would be more likely to hear her out, and not brush her off and order her away like he usually did.

She sat patiently in his study for over half an hour while he finished his reading. She feared that he did not notice she came in like she had hoped, and that she might be in for a long wait, but she would wait it out either way. Sitting with him while he studied was the closest and longest amount of time they had spent together, even if he didn't realize she was there.

After another ten minutes went by Isabella let out a reluctant yawn that she had been trying in vain to stifle. Out of all things however, Edward took notice to this small change. He put down his book and shifted in his chair for the first time.

"Excuse me Isabella, I meant to only finish the page I was on when you came in, but it seems I lost track of what I was doing."

Isabella blushed under his intense eyes, and his rare apology. "It was no trouble; I didn't want to interrupt you. If it's not too bold, what were you so enthralled by?"

Edward picked up his book and looked at the cover, "I've been trying my hand at reading in Italian, I've only recently became fluent enough to read the Italian language clearly."

Isabella was impressed. These were the sorts of things she wanted to know about him. She craved for him to tell her things about himself, and she felt a wave of excitement wash over her when he offered up the information. She too was interested in learning Italian, but she knew not to tell him so.

"Now what is it you waited so patiently for?"

"I wanted to talk to you," she began, "I wanted to know firstly, when you were to become Duke?"

The atmosphere in the room changed when her question was let out. Edward's appreciative face changed into one of annoyance.

"My father is waiting for the right moment," he stated plainly. "What is it the urgency?"

"Oh no, there is no urgency!" Isabella defended, realizing she seemed like a title-fishing whore. "I am simply ready and excited to begin my duties as the woman of this house, and as the Duchess."

Edward leaned slightly forward, looking peculiarly at his bride, "And what duties are you excited for as the Duchess?"

"Well I think I'll make an excellent host, for our social gatherings, and political meetings-"

"Political meetings, social gatherings?" Edward cut her off.

"Yes, I am very familiar with politics, I think I'm ready."

"Isabella, whatever you think your duties are here, being involved in politics is not one of them. Nor will it ever be, so you can seize even thinking about them from this point on. Your duties, when you become Duchess that is, will be to bear many heirs, and be the face of this household."

"Face of the household? Not woman of the household?" Isabella asked boldly.

"You are aware, that the current Duchess still lives here, and with my early reign, will continue to live here as the woman of the house. Until the day comes that she may pass, she is the woman of this house."

"Yes I am aware that many people live here that I am unacquainted with."

"Are you?" Edward asked condescendingly.

Isabella faltered, surely she did not know if Rosalie lived here, as she had assumed. Just as she had assumed that she was to be the Dukes bride before, not the bride for his son.

With no response, Edward decided to end their conversation, "When the day comes that I become Duke and you Duchess, you and I will sit down and discuss your place and your expectations, until then, you may continue on as you have."

Isabella watched as he picked up his book, opened up to his last page, and dove back into his readings. She stood shakily and let herself out.

* * *

Edward let out a deep sigh as Isabella turned the corner from his office. He set his book down, and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Even with her sitting across the room with the door open he could hardly control himself. If Alice hadn't given him a heads up he would have been in trouble. As it was he was able to feed, leave his door open, and mentally prepare himself for exposing himself to her delicateness, and deliciousness.

His rouse of pretending to read had been a great exercise for him, not only did she not suspect a thing, but he was able to simply concentrate of her scent and not killing her for over a half hour.

He was not prepared however for her qualms about her position. He should have assumed it was foolish of him to not think of the way their situation would appear to her. She was a newlywed lady, and the expectations of being so were not being fulfilled. Something he was responsible for. She was quite right that ordinarily she would be expected to host gatherings, but she would not live that life for years to come.

He had to find a way to consummate her marriage, to put her mind at ease, and to fulfill Carlisle's wishes so that he could become Duke. That would at least get them closer to the next task. Getting over one hurdle. He simply did not know how he could physically or mentally ever be ready for such an ordeal.

As he mulled it over, he heard Emmett approaching from across the house. He could hear Emmett thinking excitedly about his plan for Edward to lay with Isabella, but he could not hear what the plan actually was. He would have to simply wait for Emmett to come explain.

When Emmett walked into the study he was grinning ear to ear. "So?" he asked excitedly.

"I couldn't hear a thing," Edward replied, smirking.

Emmett did a sort of victory jump before continuing, "I've been practicing, even when you're not around. I was thinking about having a plan, and not the plan itself, so you would get jazzed up for my arrival," he said in triumph.

"Well it worked annoyingly well," Edward said dryly.

Emmett let out a loud booming laugh, "Annoying for you perhaps, finally seems I found a way to have some privacy!"

"So do you really have a plan, or were you just teasing?"

"Do I ever! It is the holy grail of all plans, brother," Emmett said, pausing for dramatic effect, watching Edward's eyebrows get lost in his hairline.

"You and I are going into town. There we will find a woman close to being as tantalizing as your Isabella. Then we will bring her here, and you will do a practice run on her."

"Practice run!" Edward asked, in shock.

"Well you can't just dive in with Isabella now that you know the effect she has on you. If you screw it up, both Carlisle and Alice will throttle you. Not to mention our cover will be blown if the Spencer's daughter is mauled to death."

"Comforting Emmett," Edward said, jaw slacked.

"Honest Edward. I forgot to mention Rosalie would kill you if you blew our royal cover here."

"These are all very selfish reasons for me to conduct a possible fatal practice run. Is there any chance anyone doesn't want me to accidentally kill Isabella, because she's a person?"

"Well yes, there's that. We don't want you to drown yourself in your sorrows like you did last time you had a slip."

"Again, nothing to do with Isabella being a person of worth."

"Edward, listen to me. Now is not the time to get philosophical on us. All that matters is she survives, and that you take over Carlisle's position right now. We are all worried! After the first time, I guarantee it won't be a problem again."

Edward shuttered as Emmett accidentally let his mind go to the possibilities of his and Isabella's consummation. Some of the images were creepy, and at the same time exotic coming from his brother's mind, others were down right satanic.

"Woops, sorry it slipped," Emmett apologized. "Let's get out of here and find an enticing lady. You don't have to even sleep with her if your uncomfortable with it. Just be close to her. Really close."

Despite the fact that Edward did not know Isabella at all, the idea of disloyalty made his stomach drop. Surely Esme would kill him if he did so anyway. He seemed to have a hit list on him if this went wrong in any way.

* * *

They found the girl after only 2 hours of searching. Her smell did not torture Edward nearly as bad as his wife's did, but it would be suitable for practice.

They brought the girl back to the manor, and went to Emmett's chambers, where Rosalie was waiting with wine to relax the girl. Unconscious that vampires surrounded her, the girl was still greatly uneasy. She was convinced she had been summoned to be payment for her father's debts.

After several glasses of wine to Emmett and Rosalie's enjoyment, the girl was throwing herself all over Edward, kissing his neck, pushing her breasts into his face. Edward was in fact, doing very well. The burning in his throat was bearable; he wasn't in danger of biting this girl. He was annoyed with the girl's advances however; it was difficult to push her away without her taking it as affection. He wanted her to stay close so he could continue to run his trial of not killing her, but if her tongue went in his ear one more time, he would have to call it a night.

Within the next few moments, several things happened at once. First the young human woman shoved her hand down Edward's pants, just as Alice walked in with a gazed look in her eye.

"Stop!" she shouted only a moment before the opposite door opened to reveal Isabella.


End file.
